


The Girl Next Door

by Tasha_T



Category: Original Work
Genre: F/F, Lesbian Character, Lesbian Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-19
Updated: 2021-03-21
Packaged: 2021-03-28 22:55:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 16,957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30146859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tasha_T/pseuds/Tasha_T
Summary: Taylor was my next door neighbor and she was nice enough.  We hung out sometimes, but nothing special.  And I knew she was a lesbian . . . she made no secret of the fact.  It really didn't bother me.  But this morning she announced that she'd found someone new she was interested in . . . someone she said I knew well.
Kudos: 1





	1. Chapter 1

I was wandering out to my Corolla, still half asleep, wishing I’d gotten up fifteen minutes earlier so I could have grabbed some breakfast, and hoping the cup of coffee I had managed to make would at least wake me up before I got to school. I hated Monday mornings. Correction . . . I hated mornings.

That’s when I heard a voice call, “Hey, Jessica . . . morning. How’s it going today?”

I looked up to see Taylor, my neighbor. She was a junior and I was a senior. She was okay. 

I gave her a little nod of acknowledgement. I wasn’t up to words yet, and not even close to putting together a full sentence.

“Hey, I missed the bus. Do you think I could catch a ride?”

I gave another nod as I opened the back door, swung my backpack off my shoulder and flung it onto the seat. Of course somewhere in the process of doing this I tipped my cup and managed to spill my coffee. Why had I decided I didn’t need a lid today?

“Shit,” I shouted as the hot coffee hit the front of my jeans. I stared down at the wet spots and felt the hot liquid burn against my legs. Well, I said I hoped the coffee would wake me up. It certainly had.

I heard a giggle from the other side of the car and looked up to see Taylor merrily laughing at me. I scowled, but that seemed to make her laugh more.

“Feeling like walking, are you?” I growled, but that just got some more giggles.

I sighed. She knew me too well. “Get in,” I muttered as I slid behind the wheel. I dug a couple of napkins out of the center console and started wiping my jeans in hopes that I could at least keep it from staining too badly.

Taylor still had a big grin on her face. She was way too happy for this time of the morning.

When I had done as good a job as I could, I tossed the napkins towards the little garbage I had on the floor in the back seat. They landed dead center in the garbage. “Nothing but net,” I proclaimed with satisfaction. I would take whatever small victories I could manage at this time of the morning.

I took a sip from my coffee and then started the car. The radio was on an all news station. After about three seconds Taylor reached up and started fiddling with it. I glanced at her, a little annoyed. When she tuned in a local country station my look went to a full on glare.

It took a second, but I finally caught her eye. She looked surprised and maybe a little taken aback by my look. “What?” she asked, her eyes wide and her mouth agape trying to look all innocent.

“Don’t touch the radio,” I grumbled as I reached up to change the station back.

“Oh come on, you’re not going to make me listen to all that boring talk about politics and the economy and . . . blah blah blah.” For the last little bit she rolled her eyes, did little talking heads with her hands and screwed up her face like having to deal with such torture might well drive her over the edge. Not that that was a long journey for her I decided.

“It’s important to know what’s going on in the country and the world,” I informed her, quite earnestly. I really did try to keep on top of such things . . . although I well knew I was in the minority.

“Hey, I know what’s going on in the world,” she responded breezily. “I’ve got Facebook and Snapchat . . . I’ve got lots of people that share what’s important with me. I get all the information . . . that the Russians want me to see.”

A big grin spread across her face as she said the last bit. 

She could see me glaring at her again. I’d had a heated discussion about exactly this in the cafeteria just last week. Apparently, I realized, Taylor – and probably half the school – had overheard me. 

She was clearly teasing me. It was far too early for that!

I gave her a look that said, “I know what you’re doing and I’m not really all that amused,” but that just made her giggle again.

Apparently I was very amusing this morning.

“Why don’t we compromise,” Taylor suggested, as she reached for the radio again. I hoped she realized she was risking losing her arm. I kept my temper in check, though, as she tuned it to a pop station. 

She looked at me, and after a second or two I nodded. I reluctantly accepted her compromise, as Taylor began bopping to the song that was playing. Yeah, she was way to cheerful and wide awake for this time of the day.

I pulled out and headed on our way.

I worked on my coffee some more. My brains cells were finally starting to fire, so I thought maybe I was up to a little conversation. So I asked Taylor, “How’s Meghan these days?”

“Beats me,” she responded, and I could hear the iciness in her tone. I glanced over and found her staring out the window, her eyes far away, and the smile now missing from her face. 

“She’s gone . . . good riddance,” she added. There was a hint of a pout in her voice.

“What happened?” This was news to me, not that I was up to date with everything going on in Taylor’s life.

Yes, Taylor was a lesbian, and wasn’t at all concerned who knew about it. We didn’t exactly live in New York or LA, so she got more than a little abuse for it, but she was one of those people who just never seemed bothered by the petty comments others might make. I kind of admired that.

She’d told me – just out of the blue – about three years ago. That was probably a year before it became common knowledge. I was a little shocked, I must admit. 

It’s not like we were besties or anything, but she’d lived next door to me my whole life pretty much and we did hang out now and then . . . I guess when either of us got really bored. Often it was in the summer, because she had a pool at her place and it was nice to hang out there when it got ridiculously hot out.

Honestly, Taylor’s thing had never really been a concern with me. I was comfortable with who I was and like I said, I’d known Taylor so long . . . I decided it really didn’t change my idea of who she was 

Okay . . . maybe it took me a bit of time to get there, but it really wasn’t that long. And now I really didn’t think about it.

I know I’ve gotten some grief for being friends with her . . . but most people came to realize pretty quickly that they didn’t want to piss me off or get on the wrong side of me. 

Taylor might have been one to just ignore people . . . but that really wasn’t my style. And I wasn’t at all shy about making a scene. I got more than a little pleasure seeing the horrified looks on people’s faces when I called them out very publicly. Let’s just say it only happened a couple of times before people learned not to make comments around me . . . and especially not to me.

As for Meghan, she was a cheerleader from over at St. Augustine Catholic High School – one of our rival high schools in town. I often wondered what the faculty at a Catholic school thought about it.

Anyway, Taylor had introduced me to her about six months ago. She was really the first woman I knew of that Taylor had gone out with. She seemed nice enough – she was definitely very pretty – and they seemed quite happy together from what little I’d seen.

I did get the impression that Taylor was much more comfortable being open about their relationship than Meghan maybe was. 

I tried to recall. The last time I could remember seeing them together was probably three or four weeks ago, down at the mall. They’d actually been walking hand in hand through one of the stores, looking at clothes. I’d stopped and chatted just for a few seconds, and they both seemed fine. 

Actually, now that I thought about it, Taylor had seemed fine . . . maybe even a bit chatty . . . whereas Meghan barely said a word. I didn’t think anything of that, though, given that I knew Taylor and not Meghan.

Anyway, back to the present . . . Taylor hadn't answered my question so I asked again. “Hey, what happened? You two seemed good together.”

“Nothing,” she responded curtly.

Did you ever get the impression, when you’re talking to someone and they’re acting like they don’t want to discuss something, that in fact they really, really do want to talk about it? It’s almost like they’re being coy, but they actually want you to press them and force it out of them? Well, for whatever reason, that was the feeling I was getting from Taylor.

I just had to decide if I really wanted to get into it.

I knew Taylor didn’t have a lot of close girl friends to talk with about these things, so . . . being the sucker than I am . . . I thought maybe she needed someone to talk to.

I pulled over to the side of the road, put the car in park and turned to her.

“Okay, enough pouting. Spill it.” I was taking the tough love approach. Warm and fuzzy and sensitive just weren't my strengths.

Taylor said nothing for a few seconds, and then finally turned to me. “We broke up,” she said. Her eyes were downcast and she frowned.

“Duh,” I responded. “No kidding.” I’m thinking I should never look to be a psychiatrist or anyone in the mental health field. I guess I just don’t have patience for people who I think are just feeling sorry for themselves. Suck it up and get on with life already.

Taylor glanced up at me and from her little scowl I assumed she didn’t really appreciate my sarcasm.

I just looked at her and motioned for her to get on with it. We did have classes to get to, after all. Though if I was late for first period Algebra, I decided I could live with that.

Finally she spoke. “I don’t know what happened. We seemed to be doing fine . . . but then we started fighting . . . a bit at first, but then all the time. She . . . she finally told me ‘this wasn’t her thing’ . . . ,” she did the air quotes, “ . . . like she’d joined the drama club and then realized she just wasn’t into it.”

She was silent for a moment. Her eyes were far away and she was obviously deep in thought, so I kept quiet. See, I can be (somewhat) sensitive.

Finally she blinked a couple of times and seemed to return to the present. She turned to me now and gave me a small smile. “It’s done now. Whatever. I’ve moved on.” She actually sounded like she meant it.

I gave her what I hoped was a reassuring smile and told her, “Good.” I felt please with myself. I’d done my good deed for the day.

“There’s plenty of women out there,” I added. I was on a roll, so I figured, “Why stop now?”

Taylor gave me a little nod and her smile widened. “Yes there are,” she agreed.

As I turned to start the car I just threw out a question, almost for something to say. “So have you got any hot prospects?”

“Oh, I definitely have someone in mind.” 

There was something about her gleeful tone that made me pause. I turned to find her beaming a huge smile in my direction.

“Uh . . . is it anyone I know,” I asked nervously.

Her smile widened and her eyes twinkled with joy. “Oh, you most definitely know her,” she told me.


	2. Chapter 2

Algebra sucked. Algebra always sucks, but today I think maybe it was sucking way worse than normal. The teacher sucked and the questions he was asking sucked and the math nerds who immediately knew all the answers sucked. It just really, really sucked.

Yeah, I was definitely in one of my moods. Usually I can tie these moods to that monthly cycle . . . and I’m not talking about the moon. But I didn’t have that excuse today.

I wasn’t really sure why I was in such a foul mood . . . well that wasn’t exactly true. I knew the cause, I just wasn’t sure why it had made me feel so dark. 

I had, after all, set Taylor very straight on things . . . before we even got back on the road . . . and then again as we drove . . . and in the parking lot at the school when we arrived. 

But nothing I said seemed to dent that big goofy smile on her face. I wanted to reach out and shake her and make her understand, but she just brushed off anything I said with a cheerful little, “We’ll see.”

No, we weren't going to see! There was nothing to see! There wasn’t going to be anything to see!!

It was perfectly clear to me. The problem was, it seemed she couldn’t see.

When the bell rang at the end of class I just sat there, with my eyes closed, taking deep breaths, trying to calm myself.

After a moment, I heard the teacher ask, “Is there a problem, Ms. Vaughn? Are you feeling okay?”

I sighed. “I’m fine. I’m not the one with the problem.”

I opened my eyes and rose. I could see my comment left my teacher looking confused (was he thinking I was referring to him?) but I wasn’t the least inclined to enlighten him.

“Or am I the one with the problem?” I found myself thinking as I headed for my locker to dump my books. 

Luckily I had gym next. It was just what I needed – something physical to burn off a bit of this pent up anger and energy.


	3. Chapter 3

Well, I did that!

Half way through, when we stopped for a water break, my friend, Deandra – that was just Dee to those of us who knew her – came over.

“Hey, Jess, what’s up?” she asked, almost casually.

I just shrugged and said, “Nothing,” and then took another big gulp from my water bottle.

“Hmm . . . you seem a little intense out there today . . . you know, playing against these civilians.”

Dee and I were both starters on the varsity girls basketball team. Actually, we were the co-captains. And today in gym we happened to be playing basketball.

When Dee referred to ‘civilians’ she was talking about the non-basketball players. Coach always put Dee and I on opposite teams in gym and we went at each other hard. But we tended to go easy on the non-players.

Today, though, I’d been taking it to everyone. I’d just finished doing a run down block from behind on Tyler Johnson. Hey, he was a football player and a decent athlete, so he seemed like fair game to me. 

He was anything but impressed, I think mainly because the other football players in the class were giving him a hard time because he was ‘stuffed by a girl’. 

“Just wait,” I was thinking as I looked over at his football buddies who were harassing him. “Your turn’s coming too.”

Dee was quiet for a minute, but then persisted. “So . . . nothing’s got you wound up . . . no one’s got you all pissed off?”

Dee knew me pretty well. We’d played basketball together since freshman year (and also volleyball and track) and had pretty much led the team since that time. We actually complimented each other quite well on the court. Dee was our point guard. She was crazy fast, a great dribbler and a really good passer.

I was a small forward. I was fast too, and pretty good with the ball, and I could shoot or drive. I was also a pretty decent three point shooter. 

But where Dee was always calm and cool out on the court, I was typically anything but. I was pretty proud of the fact that I’d made it all the way through senior year with just a couple of technicals and had only fouled out once. And I hadn't actually been thrown out of a game since my sophomore year. That was a real achievement for me.

So Dee was great at calming the team down when we needed it, and I was good at firing up the emotions when we needed that. We both knew our team and knew each other well enough to make it work. We never talked about it, but I knew when I had to let her do her thing, and she knew when it was time for me to do my thing. And it worked for us. We’d had pretty good success for a small city team – even against teams from the larger centers.

So, yeah, Dee obviously knew me well enough to know something was a little off today. But even though we were good friends, it really wasn’t something I wanted to talk about.

So I just blew it off, saying, “Sometimes those football players bug me. Hey, I’d love it in basketball if we could stop every ten seconds, get the team together, plan a play and then run it. And then do that all over again in another ten seconds. It’s kind of pathetic, when you think about it.”

This was a conversation Dee and I had had before, so she just nodded. But I could see in her eyes she wasn’t really buying it.

“Okay,” she said. “Just don’t go hurting yourself . . . or anybody else out there.” She paused and grinned. “Well, maybe if you took out Justin, that would be okay.” 

Justin Walker was another football player and a bit of an arrogant jerk. For someone who had only mediocre abilities, he sure talked a big game . . . which drove Dee and me both crazy. And maybe it didn’t help that he was always hitting on Dee, even though she’d made it pretty clear she had no interest at all.

I gave her a smile and a nod. “No worries. I’ll take it easy.”

We were both in track right now – I did high jump and long jump while Dee did the 100m and 200m – and we both ran in the 4 x 100m relay team. I assumed she wanted to keep me healthy for that . . . or maybe she just cared.

“Besides,” she added, “when you go at it that hard, it makes it look like I’m slacking off.”

“You’re always slacking off,” I teased. “What are you going to do after this year when I’m not around to carry you.”

Now she laughed. “You carry me! Ha! Who’s the one with the scholarship, huh?”

Dee had gotten an offer for a track scholarship. I was actually quite proud of her. She really did work hard, so I thought she deserved it. And I’d told her so.

Of course that didn’t mean we wouldn’t trash talk each other when we were back out there on the court.

When the coach blew the whistle to start the game back up, I was feeling a little better. I don’t know if it was the hard play that had calmed me, or whether Dee had worked her usual magic. Whatever the case, I was feeling a bit happier.


	4. Chapter 4

I laid in bed for a long time that night, just thinking about things. 

The afternoon at school had gone better. I had English and Social Studies – both classes I liked – so maybe that helped.

After school I had track practice. Dee and I had hung out some more. She didn’t ask any more questions. Of course that could have been because I was acting a little more normal by then.

I hadn’t seen Taylor all day. Normally I’d at least see her in the cafeteria at lunch, but with my spare after gym, I’d decided to grab my headphones and go for a run. After about forty-five minutes of that, I stopped, and then had a nice, leisurely walk back to school. I got there just in time to shower off, power down my lunch and make it to my next class.

When I’d gotten home after track, I’d run into my grandmother sitting out on the front porch. She smiled as I walked up and I gave her a big hug.

Gran had lived with us for the last five years. I think my parents found her a bit trying at times, but I loved having her around. 

She insisted I call her Gloria – but I never did.

After I got my welcome home hug, she gave me a big smile. “That girl, Taylor, from next door came by to say hello and chat,” she told me.

I’m sure I must have had some kind of pained reaction, but Gran seemed oblivious. She just continued on.

“She seems like a really nice girl . . . always smiling and happy.”

Gran leaned in a little closer to me, gave me a conspiratorial little grin, and whispered, “She’s a lesbian, you know.” As if to clarify for me, she added, “That means she likes other girls.”

I couldn’t help grinning. Not about Taylor dropping by . . . more about Gran. She was so funny and adorable. 

I wondered how she’d heard about Taylor.

I could see Gran thinking for a second, and then she smiled at me and said, “I dated a girl once . . . Abby Goldstein . . . it was back in ’67 . . . or maybe ’68. She was really pretty . . . and a great kisser . . . .”

I’d gone from being amused by Gran to being . . . I’m not sure what the right word was . . . but part of it was definitely ‘uncomfortable’. This was clearly TMI. You just don’t want to hear this type of thing from one of your grandparents.

In a way it didn’t surprise me, though. Gran had been a real hippie back in her younger days. 

Occasionally – often randomly – she’d come out with a story from way back then. When I was younger, that was always an occasion for me to be quickly shooed out of the room. 

By now, though, I’d heard plenty of Gran’s ‘sex and drugs and rock ‘n’ roll’ stories. I wasn’t a hundred percent sure they were all true, but that didn’t stop her from telling them and it didn’t stop me from being amused by them. Well, most of them.

She sat back down on her rocker and was staring off into space. There was a happy little smile on her face. 

I wondered if she was thinking about Abby Goldstein. I decided I didn’t really want to know.

“I’ll see you later, Gran,” I said and gave her a little kiss on the forehead. “I’d better go in and get supper started.”

My parents typically weren’t home until closer to six, so I usually got supper going so we could eat at a reasonable time.

After supper I retreated to my room, worked on homework, shared a few texts with Dee and a couple other friends of mine, read a bit, and then decided it was time for bed.

I hadn't really thought about Taylor at all during the evening, but when I was laying in bed, my mind drifted back to her.

I found myself just shaking my head. I half wondered if her whole little performance that morning had been one of her pranks just to wind me up. She did like to get me going sometimes. That seemed to amuse her.

Anyway, I realized it didn’t matter one way or another. Even if she had some serious kind of interest in me, I didn’t feel the same . . . so it was a moot point.

That’s what I told myself anyway . . . before I drifted off to sleep.


	5. Chapter 5

I thought I’d gone to sleep at a reasonable time, but the next morning was a repeat of the one before. I struggled to drag myself out of bed, somehow managed to dress myself and make myself presentable, and then just had time to grab a quick cup of coffee from the Keurig. Today I took the extra ten seconds and added a lid to my to-go cup.

As I stumbled out the front door and headed towards my Corolla, I saw Taylor leaning up against a tree, staring at her phone. When she heard me, she looked up and gave me a big, warm smile.

“Good morning, Jessica,” she called. She sounded ridiculously cheerful.

I made some noise that probably resembled a grunt. As I unlocked the car and threw my pack in the back, Taylor came over.

I glanced at her. “Missed the bus again?” I asked.

She grinned and nodded.

“Okay, get in,” I told her. What was I going to say?

“Thanks,” she replied. “I appreciate it.”

When we were both seated I saw her dig a paper bag out of her pack. She held it up, smiled brightly, and said with delight, “I made this for you.”

I glanced over at her, I’m sure looking suspicious and a little uncertain. That seemed to amuse her.

I didn’t immediate grab the bag until she told me, “It’s a fresh baked banana chocolate chip muffin. I thought you might like it.”

Now she had my attention!

I love chocolate, but I typically don’t consider it a ‘breakfast thing’. However, if you mash up some gross, over-ripe bananas and throw them and some chocolate chips into a muffin mix, you have the ultimate morning treat. Don’t ask me how it works . . . each of the components seems completely wrong. But together . . . they’re perfection.

I took the bag and opened it. The smell that wafted out of it left me drooling.

I reached into the bag, broke off a piece and threw it into my mouth. It was still warm, the outside was just a bit crisp, and the chocolate chips were all nice and melty. Yep, I was definitely in heaven.

I looked over at her. She had a big, satisfied smile on her face.

“You made these . . . fresh . . . this morning?”

She nodded at each of my questions. She gave me that big, beaming smile – where her face and her eyes completely lit up – and said, “Yep . . . I made them . . . just for you.”

The first thought that popped into my head was, “Maybe I should string her along for a bit . . . and then maybe I could get muffins every morning.” 

Okay, that might seem a little cold and heartless . . . but it was a really good muffin. And first thing in the morning I’m running more on primitive instincts . . . so all those nice-to-have normal human attributes – like compassion, empathy, decency, and common sense – just aren’t fully functioning yet.

I had another bite from the muffin (yum), which only reinforced my evil plotting.

Taylor threw me off by asking, “So, do you like it?”

“This is great,” I responded with real enthusiasm. “Thank you.” I might have been Machiavellian, but I could at least be polite.

“Just one of the many benefits you get with me,” Taylor said and then gave me a huge grin.

I was a little more prepared for her goofiness today, so I didn’t get all flustered and angry. Instead I thought I’d just play along – and not just for the prospect of getting more muffins (or at least not solely for that).

“So . . . what other benefits do you get?” I asked.

I got the sense Taylor was pleased by my question.

“Well,” she started, and that grin was getting bigger. “First off, you get me . . . and I’ve been told I’m pretty cute.”

I smiled. Taylor was actually more than ‘pretty cute’.

She continued. “Oh, and when you’re kissing a girl, you don’t have to deal with all that scratchy, sandpaper face like with guys. And, you know, you pretty much double the size of your wardrobe because we can share clothes.”

I had to laugh at this. “I can’t wait to see you in a pair of my jeans,” I commented. I was about six inches taller than Taylor. “And I’m not sure I could pull of that dress,” I added, looking over at her.

It ended probably mid thigh on her and fit quite snuggly over her rather generous boobs.

“Are you kidding?” she gushed. “With your killer legs and that tight little bottom of yours? You would rock this dress.”

I noticed how she didn’t mention how I’d underwhelm the top half of the dress. Very tactful of her. Was I sometimes a little sensitive about that? Maybe.

I found myself laughing, in spite of myself. Maybe she was being somewhat serious – I really wasn’t sure – but I was finding her kind of amusing.

She gave me a crooked little grin before adding, “Best of all . . . when you go to bed with a girl, she doesn’t just rush to get herself off . . . plus, she knows how all your parts work . . . and she usually doesn’t mind cuddling afterwards. And even nicer, you don’t get slimy stuff all over yourself and the bed and everything else.”

I found myself laughing again.

After a second I joked, “How do you know what it’s like with a guy?” as much to stir up trouble as anything.

She gave me a smug little smile. “It’s not like I’m a virgin, you know.”

Honestly, this kind of shocked me. I mean, she was seventeen now, so she would have been fourteen when she told me she preferred women.

As if she could read my mind, she added, “I started early. I looked older than my age, even back then.”

That was true. At fourteen she could easily have passed for sixteen . . . maybe even eighteen. She definitely started developing early. Her boobs back then were certainly bigger than mine were. Who am I kidding, they were bigger than mine are now.

She turned her head from me and was looking off out the window. After a few seconds she spoke in a far off voice. “I was in such a rush back then. All my friends were so into guys . . . . I think I kind of thought there was something wrong with me because they just didn’t seem to do that much for me.”

She paused. I thought maybe she was done, but then she started up again. “I got thinking maybe if I just tried it with a guy, that would . . . I don’t know . . . wake me up or something.”

She furrowed her brow, like maybe this wasn’t her favorite memory. “I got together with a couple of guys.” I saw a sad little smile cross her face, and then she gave her head a little shake. “My friends were so jealous of me. I told them all how wonderful it was . . . that’s what they wanted to hear, I knew.”

She paused again. That pained look was back on her face. “Only it really wasn’t wonderful. It didn’t help, I guess, that the guys didn’t seem to know what they were doing. They just wanted to stick it in, get themselves off, and then go tell their buddies about it.”

Her voice sounded more than a little bitter. 

“But it was more than just lousy sex. They were good looking guys . . . but they didn’t do a thing for me.”

She glanced over at me . . . almost looking a little nervous. Maybe she was suddenly afraid that I had no interest in hearing any of this.

But I guess the muffin and the coffee had worked to wake up those deeper feelings of mine. From Taylor’s tone I could tell how intensely personal all of this was. I sensed this wasn’t something she casually shared with people. I wondered if she’d ever shared it with anyone before. Meghan, maybe? Who knew.

Anyway, I’m sure that when she looked at me, she could see that I was listening attentively, and that I was sympathetic and definitely not judgy. I wasn’t the judgy type . . . well, about stuff like this. God knows I’d done enough stupid things in my life that I rarely felt I was in a position to judge other people’s actions.

We locked eyes for a second and I gave her a reassuring little smile. She offered a sad smile back, and then turned away again.

“It was really hard, you know,” she continued. “I thought maybe there was something wrong with me . . . like I was sexless, or didn’t have a sex drive, or I had some problem, mentally.”

She glanced my way again and I nodded. Things were confusing enough going through puberty without something like this.

“So, how did you figure it out?” I asked. My curiosity was genuine.

I saw a smile spread across Taylor’s face. She turned to me, grinning, and simply said, “Keira.”

I’m sure I looked totally lost. I didn’t know any Keira.

I could see the amusement in Taylor’s eyes at my confusion. She seemed to enjoy it for a few seconds before she added, “Keira Knightley.”

Well, I at least knew who that was. Of course it didn’t make things any clearer.

Taylor turned in her seat so she was facing me. She’d recovered from her melancholy – she seemed quite happy again as she started speaking. 

“It was one of those summer nights when there were a few of us over at Sophie’s place (that was one of her old friends). We weren’t doing anything, so we decided to watch one of those Pirates of the Caribbean movies . . . I’ve got no idea which one. I’d never seen one before. 

“Sophie and Bree and Jenna were all arguing over whether Captain Jack or Will – you know, Johnny Depp or Orlando Bloom – was hotter. I did my best to play along . . . but honestly, I couldn’t take my eyes off of Elizabeth Swann – that was Keira Knightley’s character. She just left me breathless. 

“I was so nervous sitting there. . . so afraid my friends would look at me and would know . . . . But I still couldn’t look away . . . and I couldn’t help the way I was feelings.

“I think I was awake most of that night thinking about her.” She giggled. “Okay, fantasizing about her.” 

“Unlike those guys I’d been with, she definitely did something for me.”

She let out a little laugh. “Yeah, it kind of screwed me up for a while. But finally I accepted it. It felt right . . . and suddenly a lot of other things kind of made sense, you know.”

She was grinning now . . . facing me, but not really looking at me. She just sat there quietly, I suppose reliving it in her mind.

Finally she looked up at me and then shyly dropped her eyes.

“I’ve . . . I’ve never told anyone about that before,” she confessed. She snuck a couple of little looks at me, but kept her eyes down.

We were both quiet for a moment . . . and then I asked, “So why did you tell me?” I was so curious. 

She took a deep breath and seemed to contemplate it for a while.

Finally she just shrugged and said, “I really don’t know.”


	6. Chapter 6

School wasn’t too bad. After our long chat, Taylor and I were late, of course. We had to head down to the office – where I was a frequent visitor – for late slips. I told the administrator I had car trouble. She eyed me suspiciously, and I think only let us off because Taylor backed my story. Taylor obviously had much more credibility with the office staff than I did.

The morning classes went by without any incidents. At lunch, I saw Taylor in the cafeteria, sitting with her usual gang. Gina D’Angelo had once referred to the group at Taylor’s table as the Freak Squad. Gina was a friend of some of my friends, but not someone that I (or Dee) particularly liked. When I gave her a harsh glare after her comment, she just withered. “I’m not serious . . . I’m just kidding . . . it’s only a joke, you know . . . .” She stammered on for quite a bit while I stared her down. I didn’t say a word. 

Dee was giggling the whole time, loving it. She really has no time for Gina.

When Taylor saw me enter the cafeteria, she smiled and gave me a little wave. I smiled and nodded back before heading over to my usually table with Dee and some of my other friends. I was happy to see Gina wasn’t sitting with us today.

Lunch was the usually chatter about nothing in particular. Apparently I was a bit distracted. Three or four times Dee had to repeat something because I missed it. 

Finally she laughed at me. “What, is Austin Myers sitting back there?” she teased as she turned and looked back behind herself.

I guessed my eyes kept drifting off over her shoulder . . . which was where Taylor was sitting. Taylor was very animated and seemed to be by far the most social of the group at her table. A few times she’d glanced my way and given me a little smile.

Dee was searching the crowd – in vain it seemed – trying to guess who was drawing my attention, while I was commenting that Austin Myers may have been interested in me, but that the feelings weren’t at all mutual.

Just as Dee was about to give up and turn back around, Taylor looked our way, flashing that big smile of hers. 

I don’t know if it was just the movement, or the look on Taylor’s face or just the fact her eyes were focused in our direction, but Dee seemed to suddenly lock onto her. 

Taylor looked at me. It seemed to take her a fraction of a second to notice Dee was looking at her. I could almost see their eyes meet, and then Taylor quickly and obviously looked away.

Dee just sat there for a second, and then slowly turned back around. Her eyes fell on me and she opened her mouth, like she was going to comment . . . but then didn’t.

Meanwhile, I was surprised to find my face suddenly feeling a little warm. 

“What are you blushing for?” I was asking myself. I hadn't done anything. But knowing that didn’t seem to do anything to make it stop.

I looked down. I wondered if Dee noticed I was blushing. I wondered what she would think it meant. I wondered what it did mean. I was a little confused.

When I looked back up, Dee seemed to be lost in thought. To try and move past whatever this was, I made another comment about how Austin Myers could only dream about ever getting together with me.

When Dee looked at me – quite seriously – without responding, I found myself wondering how she might be interpreting my comment (would she think I meant I wasn’t into guys?). I found my face feeling flushed again.

I’d had enough. I told Dee I was going to go for a walk to get some fresh air before classes started up again. Often she’d join me for something like that, but today she just nodded and said, “Sure. Catch you later.”

I think we were both relieved.

I headed outside, found a nice tree on the side lawn, and flopped down under it. I closed my eyes and tried to clear my head. 

After thinking about it a bit, I was convinced that nothing had really happened in the cafeteria, no matter what Dee might have thought she saw (or how much I had blushed – I was still unclear on that!). I was friends with Taylor – Dee knew that. And I was sure she also knew that was all there was to it.

I found myself smiling. “This is something we’re going have a good laugh about some time,” I thought.

I didn’t catch up with Dee again until track practice after school. I did my best to act like nothing had happened at lunch, and Dee seemed to be doing the same. We almost seemed like we were back to normal . . . but maybe not quite. I thought she still looked like she had some questions she wanted to ask.

After practice, Dee and I walked to the parking lot together. We’d just finished working on the hand-offs for the relay – the one thing we actually did together in track. We both ran in our school’s 4x100 team – I ran the second leg and Dee was the anchor – so we were talking about that, and the likelihood we were going to destroy the team over at Kenridge High, our cross-town rivals.

When she got to her car she just said, “Later, Jess,” as she threw her sports bag in the trunk. Like always I paused to admire her car. She had a flashy new red Audi, which put my old Corolla to shame. I was majorly jealous, of course.

I gave Dee one last wave as she climbed in, and then turned towards my car. 

I was more than a little shocked to see Taylor reclined on the hood, a large camera to her face. She seemed to be taking pictures of the clouds, or maybe the tree that overhung the parking lot, or a bird or something. 

“Uh . . . hey,” I called. I’m sure the surprise showed in my voice.

She took the camera away from her face, sat up and grinned at me. Then she raised the camera, adjusted the lens, and shot off a half dozen pictures of me as I approached.

“So . . . what are you doing here?” I asked. I didn’t typically see her around after school.

She held up the camera. “Photography club. We get together on Tuesdays and Thursdays.” She was still grinning.

“We just finished up about ten minutes ago,” she continued. “I saw you were still at track, but I figured you were just about done. And catching the bus home at this time of night is brutal, so . . . .”

I guess that kind of made sense. I gave her a little nod.

I saw her eyes move slightly, so they were suddenly focused on something behind me.

I turned to see Dee sitting there in her car. She’d backed out and must have seen me talking to someone. I was pretty sure she could see it was Taylor.

Her eyes shifted to mine and held them for a second . . . and then she pulled away.

I decided Dee and I needed to have a talk very soon, before she got the wrong idea in her head.

I turned back to Taylor. Her eyes seemed to be following Dee’s car out of the parking lot. Her smile was gone, her brow was furrowed and she was biting her lip, like she was deep in thought.

I’m sure she knew as well as I did . . . that was twice today that Dee connected me with Taylor. It seemed Taylor was aware that Dee might be putting two and two together and getting . . . something that was totally wrong.

“So you want a ride, I suppose?” I said to bring her back.

She glanced up at me and smiled. “Sure. That would be great.”

I grinned. “Well, do you have any more of those muffins? That might convince me.”

She shook her head and shrugged. “Sorry.”

I posed like I was thinking about it, but then finally said, “Okay, I suppose I could give you a ride.”

“Well, that’s very generous of you,” she commented. There was definitely a hint of sarcasm in it. But then she grinned. “Maybe I can buy you an ice cream some time to repay your generosity.”

My eyes definitely lit up. “From Jensen’s?” I immediately asked. Jensen’s was a local institution. They had the best ice cream – they made it themselves – and had probably forty different flavors.

Taylor rolled her eyes and said, “Duh, of course,” like it was the stupidest question I could possibly ask.

“Well then you’ve got a deal,” I told her enthusiastically.

Taylor just laughed at me. “You’re so easy,” she giggled as she started packing up her camera.

I thought of a few comebacks, but decided maybe it was better to just leave it. Instead I said, “Be careful when you get off the car. I don’t want any scratches.”

She had on denim shorts, and I had no idea if they were the kind that had metal rivets in them. I know my car is pretty crappy, but it didn’t really need any unnecessary damage to it.

Taylor and I chatted the whole way home. I’d always found her very easy to talk to – especially since she liked to talk . . . a lot – and I usually found her quite amusing.

When we got out of the car at home I gave her a little wave. “So . . . should I expect to see you in the morning?” I asked.

She gave me a grin. “Maybe . . . if you’re lucky.”

I laughed. “If I’m lucky, you’ll have another muffins,” I told her.

She gave me a coy little smile. “Maybe that can be arranged.”

Yep, that definitely put a smile on my face. I’m sure it was just from the thought of a morning muffin.

I gave her another wave as we parted and headed to our separate houses. 

Gran was out on the front porch again, rocking in her chair and playing games on her iPad. I gave her a hug and a kiss on the forehead, and asked how her day was.

We chatted a little, until she paused, glanced at the house next door, and then back at me.

“You seem to be good friends with Taylor these days.” It came out like a casual comment, but experience had taught me that you never knew with Gran.

“Yeah, we’ve been friends for years,” I told her. I was wondering if she was just making conversation, or if this was going somewhere.

She looked up at me and gave me a warm smile. “She really is such a sweet girl.”

I just nodded. I was sensing Gran was in one of her mischievous moods . . . so I was cautious.

Almost casually, she added, “I think she really likes you.”

I stood there with my mouth hanging open, uncertain what to do or say. I’m sure my face turned bright red this time.

She continued on, totally oblivious to my reaction. “You know, if you ever decided you wanted to go out with a girl, I think she’d be a wonderful choice.”

My lips were moving, but I couldn’t seem to make a connection with my brain. I had no idea what to say.

“I wonder if she has a girlfriend?” Gran muttered, almost to herself. “She’s really pretty, so I’d be surprised if she didn’t.” She seemed to be drifting off into thoughts of her own. Maybe she was back to memories of Abby Goldstein. Who knows.

I really didn’t want to be part of this conversation, so the only option I could think of – being the clever and courageous person that I was –was to run away.

“I’ve got to go start supper,” I told Gran, and then bolted into the house where I could hide my red face and try to regroup. I was really hoping that Gran didn’t decide to make this a topic for discussion at the dinner table!


	7. Chapter 7

I lay awake in bed . . . again . . . contemplating my day. Let’s see . . . Taylor was giving me her top ten reasons why I should date a woman, Dee, I was sure, was thinking I was already dating a woman, and Gran seemed to be casually suggesting that maybe I should consider dating a woman.

It was a bit overwhelming, coming all at once like that. 

It was definitely becoming a distraction. When I was chopping up the vegetables for my pasta sauce, I managed to give my finger a nice cut – after a couple of near misses – and then when I was sautéing the vegetables, I turned on the wrong burner and almost melted a spatula I had sitting on the stove. I’m pretty sure I added the red pepper flakes to the sauce twice because it was lethally hot (Gran seemed a fan of it, though), and then, of course, I boiled the pasta over – more than once – so that the stove was a major mess.

Even my mom commented on how distracted I seemed, when I came wandering over to the table with a hand full of plates and cutlery . . . after I’d already set it.

Yes, I was clearly a hazard and probably shouldn’t have been in the kitchen. That’s why I gladly accepted my father’s offer to do the dishes. I retreated to my room where I’d be nice and safe.

I tried working on a bit of homework, but soon gave up. I knew there’d be no hope trying to read, so I pulled up Netflix on my iPad and watched a couple of mindless comedies. Even with those, I think I missed about half of the shows – if I’m being generous.

I didn’t know why exactly I was so distracted. I mean, Taylor and I were just friends, and that was it. I was sure. Very sure. Very, very sure.

Even I started wondering if I was protesting too much!

Hey, I could admit it . . . I did like Taylor, as a person. She was fun and funny and intelligent and thoughtful. She had lots of great qualities. “The kinds of qualities you’d look for in a . . . .” I left that thought unfinished.

There was just one little quality she had the kind of disqualifies her.

“But really . . . should it?” 

I apparently had some annoying entity in my brain that was having fun playing devil’s advocate. That was something I was thinking I could really do without.

“It’s not like you’re crushing it with the guys,” that annoying voice pointed out.

Of course that was because the guys I liked already had girlfriends (admittedly, they were a small and select group), and the ones that seemed interested in me . . . well, they seemed like a pathetic pack of losers.

“That’s the problem,” I thought. “There are way too many immature, self-deluded boys in our school . . . or maybe I should say, ‘in our city’.”

I gave my head a little shake. “And unfortunately, I seem to be a magnet for them.”

Hey, I could think of two or three guys that I’d definitely be interested in going out with . . . if they weren't already in relationships.

I was hopeful that when I hit college next year, maybe I’d find a better pool of guys. I figured college would weed out the absolute morons, and probably the slackers. Surely the odds were way better there for finding an intelligent, mature man.

I pondered my woeful high school dating record some more, and after much soul searching decided the problem clearly wasn’t me . . . right?

I thought some more about this . . . and Taylor . . . and straightening out Dee . . . until I’d convinced myself once again that there really wasn’t anything to think about.

Eventually, after going round and round on these topics, I must have worn myself out. I finally drifted off to sleep, filled with the comforting thought that all was as it should be and that any ‘issues’ were more the result of other people’s misunderstandings. 

That annoying voice tossed out one final shot, just as I was heading towards dreamland. “Maybe you’re just deluding yourself?” 

Crazy, right?


	8. Chapter 8

Okay, I’ll admit that I was pleased to see Taylor waiting for me by my car the next morning. But that was only because of the muffin she produced as soon as we got in. Really.

We chatted all the way to school. Well, Taylor always half chatted and half flirted . . . but I seemed to be getting use to it. I knew she only did it to get a rise out of me, but I was on to her, so I just ignored it and carried on with the conversation.

Classes were the usual . . . nothing really too exciting. We did have to give up half of our period in gym to hear a talk on bullying. No matter how many times we had these ‘chats’, the problem seemed to persist. It was really an uphill battle, because I was pretty sure they were trying to fight human nature.

Dee leaned over and said, “I think they’re talking about you in last gym class, bullying those football boys when we were playing basketball.”

So true. We both had a good laugh.

I saw Taylor at lunch in the cafeteria. There was no little wave today, I noticed, but we shared a smile when I walked in. Today I decided to sit with my back to her, just to avoid any distractions. Dee and I chatted about the upcoming track meet, but I sensed there were other things she might want to talk to me about. 

Apparently it was Dee’s turn to keep glancing at people behind me. Just to be amusing, and I guess to make light of the whole situation the previous day, I grinned and asked, “Is there someone back there that’s interesting?”

Dee fixed her eyes on mine. “Just Taylor,” she said. 

That caught me off guard. I found myself blushing again and I didn’t seem to be able to hold Dee’s eyes. 

“What the hell is wrong with me?” I found myself wondering.

Dee’s voice hadn't even been accusing or anything. She’d said it totally casually . . . so I really had no reason to react like I did.

Well, that made things a little awkward . . . which was incredibly weird for me and Dee. 

Again, I could see in her eyes that she wanted to ask me questions . . . but she didn’t.

I quickly powered down the rest of my lunch and then mumbled something about taking a walk before classes. I headed outside, found the same tree as the previous day, and flopped down under it.

I closed my eyes and gave my head a little shake. What the hell had gotten into me lately? I was baffled.

“Maybe there really is something there with Taylor.” That annoying little voice had made a totally unwelcomed reappearance.

“We’re just friends,” I muttered, and then decided it wasn’t a good sign that I was having an argument with myself. 

My quiet moment of relaxation under the tree had settled me down the previous day, but it didn’t seem to work for me today. I was completely distracted in English right after lunch, and even had trouble following along in Social, which is my favorite class.

When I got to track practice, I was hopeful that being out in the fresh air and having something specific to focus on would help me. 

Today the coaches decided I should work on high jump – really the most technical of the events I did. Maybe that wasn’t such a good idea.

My very first attempt, at a low height that I would normally clear easily, was a disaster. Even though I’d done it a thousand times, I seemed to get my feet all wrong, which messed up my take-off. As a result, I went more through the bar than over it. Not exactly the confidence boosting start I was looking for.

My coach didn’t seem too concerned.

But by the time I’d blown my third and fourth jumps, I was fuming and my coach was looking puzzled. He called me over.

“Hey, Jess, what’s up?” he asked, not unkindly. I was typically one of the more reliable jumpers and I – typically – had my form down.

I just shrugged and mumbled something about having an off day. We were only a few days away from the track meet, though, so I could see him thinking this was a bad time to suddenly be ‘off’.

“Hey, why don’t you go work on your long jump and we can worry about fixing this tomorrow, okay?” he suggested.

I was fine with that.

I started out marginally better in long jump. No record setting jumps, but at least I was doing it without face planting or otherwise embarrassing myself.

I think that finally started to calm me down. For the last couple of jumps, I seemed much more able to focused and I really felt good.

At the end of practice, Dee wandered over. 

“Bad day at the high jump, I heard.” She gave me a questioning look.

I just grimaced and shook my head. There was nothing more to say about that.

I half wondered if the coach had been checking with her to see if anything was bothering me. I was pretty certain that if he had, she wouldn’t have told him anything.

The truth was, if I didn’t know what my problem was, it was unlikely Dee knew. Although maybe I was kidding myself about that too.

We walked up to the parking lot, but unlike normal, neither of us said a word. 

When we got to Dee’s car, she turned to me and put a hand on my arm.

“Hey, Jess, you know you can talk to me . . . if you’ve got something on your mind . . . and you need someone to . . . I don’t know, just talk things over with.” 

She was so sincere. I would have expected nothing less from her. She really was a good friend.

I gave her a warm smile.

“Thanks,” I told her, and I meant it. I really did appreciate her offer.

After a moment of thought, I added, “I might need to take you up on that . . . soon. I’ve just got to do some thinking on my own first . . . and maybe try to figure some things out.”

She smiled. “Hey, any time. You’ve got my number . . . you can call or text . . . or get me on Snapchat. Really, any time.”

She truly was a good friend . . . not just for offering to talk, but also for not pushing things and letting me come to her when I was ready. I know a lot of people would have been urging me to explain what was up . . . which would have been hard to do, given that I hadn't figured it out myself.

I couldn’t resist myself. I reached out and gave Dee a big hug. I think I kind of shocked her. Neither of us were the huggie type. But I just felt she was being so generous and such a good friend, that I wanted her to know I appreciated it.

Dee tensed initially, but then seemed to relax. When I stepped back I grinned at her. “I hope that wasn’t too awkward,” I joked.

She grinned back. “No more than the rest of the week.”

I nodded. “Yeah. Thanks again . . . for everything.”

She just waved me off, like it wasn’t something even worth mentioning. “Hey, what are friends for.”

We grinned at each other for another second. Things were feeling much closer to normal.

Dee glanced past me, towards my car. “No Taylor, I see.” Again, it was just a comment . . . there seemed to be no judgement in her voice.

I glanced behind me and nodded. “Yeah, I guess not.”

“No photography club today, I guess.”

I nodded, but wondered how Dee knew about photography club and I didn’t. I guess Dee was more plugged in to things going on at school. All I really focused on were my classes and sports.

After another second, Dee said, “Well, I’m going to get going. Talk to you later.”

She popped her trunk and threw her bag in. She paused before she climbed into her car and called me.

“Jess . . . I meant what I said. If you need to talk . . . .”

I smiled and nodded. “I’ll call you,” I promised.

“Do it . . . really.” 

Now she was sounding a little bossy. I knew she only had my best interests in mind, though, so I gave her a little salute and in an overly serious tone called back, “Yes, ma’am.”

We grinned at each other for another second, and then she climbed into her car and I turned and headed for mine.


	9. Chapter 9

I decided that a run was in order that evening. It was always a good way to clear my head . . . plus, if I wore myself out, I figured it would be easier to get to sleep.

By the time supper was done and I’d finished my homework – yes, I was actually even able to do my homework – I felt ready for my run. I had really already calmed myself quite a bit (obviously, if I could focus on my homework – Algebra . . . yuck!).

I had to admit, it was feeling like I’d been on a bit of a rollercoaster this week – for whatever reason – although certainly part (if not all) of it seemed to revolve around Taylor. I’m not usually the spastic, emotional type who gets all worked up about everything. Hey, I may get emotional when I’m playing sports, but that’s more just my overly developed need to win . . . all the time. I’m very competitive, I well know. But I don’t think there’s really anything wrong with that.

I set a nice, steady pace and ran for pretty much an hour. I walked the last mile or so, to cool down. I was feeling good by the time I made it back to my house. I guess I was experiencing my ‘runner’s high’.

I did a little stretching out front.

“Hoping maybe Taylor sees you and comes out?” that annoying little voice queried. 

Honestly, though, I had to admit I wouldn’t be at all upset if she did. I realized I’d been enjoying talking to her this week. Strangely, the drive home without Taylor in the car had seemed long and very quiet. I kept finding myself thinking of goofy things she’d said that morning . . . and that made me smile.

Hey, just because you enjoy hanging out with someone, it doesn’t mean there’s any more to it than that. I liked hanging out with Dee, after all . . . and there was certainly nothing there.

“Or is there?” queried my evil little alter ego.

She was really getting annoying. I was thinking I might have to swing by St. Mary’s church to see Father Dave and ask him if they still did exorcisms and exactly what was involved. That was the only solution I could think of to rid myself of this annoyance living in my head.

After I stretched I went in, had a quick shower, and called it a night.

I still laid awake a while. I found myself pondering why I’d been doing all that blushing whenever Dee brought up Taylor. Maybe I was a little embarrassed, having people think there was something going on between us. That made some kind of sense . . . but it seemed really out of character for me, though.

“Hey, there are worse people I could be linked with,” I thought, and I found myself grinning. It was kind of true, though. Honestly, there were a number of guys from out school I’d be thoroughly embarrassed to be associate me with. If I had to choose between people thinking I was involved with those guys or with Taylor, I think I’d pick Taylor, hands down.

“Yeah, there’s nothing wrong with Taylor,” I heard my little demon say. “Even Gran said how pretty she is.”

I was getting too tired to argue. I was thinking I should start treating that little voice sort of like I treated Taylor’s many suggestive comments. That seemed like a reasonable solution.

I felt a dreamy smile fill my face, just thinking about it, and slowly drifted off to sleep. I was feeling quite contented.


	10. Chapter 10

When my alarm went off, I whacked the snooze button quite viciously . . . like I did every morning. It was truly a wonder I hadn't smashed my clock to pieces by now. I rolled back over, refusing to open my eyes, just snuggling up in the warmth of my blankets and longing for a few more minutes of wonderful sleep.

I started drifting, and remembered the happy dream I’d been having. It was beautiful and sunny and I was in a park or somewhere, enjoying being outside and away from everyone. I was walking through a field . . . and then Taylor was there and we were both laughing and she was teasing me . . . and then I gave her a hug, like I had with Dee . . . .”

Apparently my five bonus minutes were up because my alarm sounded again, jolting me out of my blissful dream and shocking me back into the real world. I slammed it one more time, only this time I didn’t immediately roll over and go back to sleep. Instead I found my head filled with the images from my dream.

“Ooh, how about that . . . a dream about Taylor.” 

It was definitely too early to be tormented by that annoying little voice. 

“And I wasn’t dreaming about Taylor . . . she just happened to be in the dream. It’s totally different.” Yes, I was back to arguing with myself. Definitely not a good sign.

I decided I wasn’t getting back to sleep, so I turned off my alarm and got up.

I tried to put my dream aside while I got ready, but scattered images from it kept popping up in my head. I really couldn’t remember many details from it . . . I just knew Taylor did make a special guest appearance . . . and it did leave me feeling quite happy.

I decided there was nothing wrong with feeling happy in the morning. It sure beat the alternative . . . even if that was my normal demeanors.

It was a bit ironic . . . I was actually up early enough to grab some breakfast . . . but I was kind of looking forward to another muffin. I found some strawberries in the fridge and ate a few of those, and then filled my coffee cup and headed outside.

It was actually kind of nice to not be quite so rushed and to be semi-conscious when I left the house.

It was a beautiful morning (just like in the dream, I thought), and that seemed to make me smile.

I looked around and felt a little disappointed that Taylor wasn’t already lounging by my car, ready to go.

I checked the time on my phone. Maybe I was a little early.

That would be the way it goes, right. The one morning I was early and Taylor was running late.

I stood patiently (always a challenge for me), looking forward to giving her grief for making me wait, just for a change. 

I waited almost ten minutes – during which I checked the time on my phone probably a dozen times. It was getting to the point where I had to get going or risk being late . . . again.

I considered knocking on Taylor’s door . . . but I seemed to keep talking myself out of that. I realized I didn’t even have her cell number, so I couldn’t call or text her to ask if she was coming.

I decided I’d give her one more minute . . . but two minutes later she still wasn’t there. I felt torn, but I really couldn’t afford to be late again. I reluctantly climbed into my car. I kept looking back in the rear view mirror as I pulled away, thinking I might see her running out of her house . . . but I didn’t.

I’ve got to say, that really ruined my good mood. I felt quite disappointed. I was hoping nothing was wrong – you know, like she wasn’t sick, or hadn't fallen down and broken her leg or something. I was just really surprised.

“And no muffin either,” that annoying little voice whined . . . although I’m pretty sure she was being ironic. Either way, it was really piling on when I was already feeling down.

I hadn’t found a way to lift my spirits on the drive in, and that feeling continued right on through Algebra. I mean, having to do Algebra was depressing enough without starting out down.

I kept telling myself to snap out of it. I was struggling to understand what I was so upset about. But I was starting to see a pattern . . . that all these rollercoaster feelings did, after all, have some likely connection to Taylor.

I decided that on the weekend, when I had some time, I was going to have to do some serious thinking about all of this. Something was going on here, and I really didn’t understand what it was.

I was dumping my books in my locker and getting ready for Gym when Taylor came rushing up to me.

“God, Jessie, I am so sorry I didn’t mention to you that I was coming in early today. I’m doing extra credit work in Chemistry and Mr. Davidson could only talk to me about it before classes this morning. I had to get up early because I forget to finish one of the sections he wanted done and then I had to run for the bus. I was already on it before I remembered I was going to leave a note on your car, and then I realized I didn’t have your cell, so I couldn’t even text you and let you know. Really, I’m sorry..”

“Hey, it’s no big deal,” I said, but even I could hear the anger in my voice.

I glanced at her and I could see the hurt on her face. I felt bad. I was lashing out like a pouty little child.

I took a deep breath, and then turned to her. I tried to give her a smile. “I’m sorry.” I said it softly. I found I couldn’t look her in the eye. I was feeling ashamed of the way I was acting.

Finally I looked up at her. “It really is no big deal,” I said, only this time I was actually sincere. “I was just . . . I don’t know . . . worried I guess. I was afraid you were sick or . . . maybe tripped over your cat and fell down the stairs . . . or something.”

I fully expected her to tease me . . . but she didn’t. She just gave me a little smile. I could see it in her eyes, though, that, “Ah, you actually care,” look. 

My first reaction was to say something to chase away that look . . . but then I didn’t.

Instead I just held out my hand and said, “Give me your phone.”

She looked a little confused, but she dug her phone out of her bag and handed it to me. 

I looked at it, and then handed it back. “You need to unlock it, if you want me to add my number,” I told her.

That put a huge smile on her face . . . which I found made me feel good. She quickly put in her pass code and handed the phone back to me. I opened her contacts and added myself and my number.

“There,” I told her as I handed her phone back. “No more excuses.”

I gave her a little grin. “I really do need to know when I’m not getting my morning muffin. It’s just rude, after all, you not letting me know that.”

Her smile seemed to grow. “Yeah,” she said. “I know it’s all about the muffins for you.”

I found my grin growing. ‘Of course it is,” I told her.

We just stood there for a few seconds, grinning at each other, apparently oblivious to all the commotion going on around us in the hallway.

That’s when Dee snuck up behind me. “Hey, Jess, I know you two are having a moment, but we’ve got to get down to Gym or we’re going to get marked late.”

That certainly broke whatever we were experiencing.

Taylor looked a little embarrassed and turned, but I found her giving me a shy little grin as she waved and said, “I’ve got to get going. See you.”

“Do you need a ride home tonight?” I called to her as she turned to go. “You know, after photography?”

Her big smile was back. “Yeah. . . if you don’t mind.”

“No problem. I’ll see you out by the car then. Don’t be late.”

She smiled, gave me a wave, and then turned to go.

I turned to Dee. She was looking at me, grinning.

“What?” I asked.

She just shrugged. “Nothing,” she said, but she kept right on grinning at me.

“Let’s go,” I grumbled – okay, more of a pretend grumble – and headed down the hall towards the change rooms, with Dee right beside me.

About half way there Dee asked, “So, did you get some things figured out?”

I glanced at her. She was still grinning.

“I’m working on it,” I told her. That was truthfully how I felt.


	11. Chapter 11

Track practice was 180 degrees from where it was the day before. Coach started me on high jump – I’m sure a little concerned after my less than stellar performance the day before. He was probably relieved to see I had my rhythm back though. I easily cleared the bar on my first two jumps – although I noticed he started me out nice and low.

I had just finished my third successful jump. When I bounced up off the mat, I was surprised to see Taylor standing off to the side with her camera out and ready. She was grinning at me.

I walked over and asked, “Hey, what’s up? What are you doing out here?”

“We decided to work on action photos today,” she told me. “So I thought this would be perfect.”

I glanced around and noticed a few other photography students taking shots of the team as we practiced.

When I glanced back at Taylor I saw her brow was furrowed and she was biting her lip. 

“Um . . . me being here . . . it’s not going to . . .you know, affect you, is it?” Her concern seemed quite genuine.

I thought about it for a second, and then shook my head. “No, it’ll be fine,” I assured her. Because I knew, truthfully, that her being here actually seemed to make me feel happy. 

“Yeah, because having ‘friends’ watching always makes you want to show off, doesn’t it?” Yep, that little voice was getting kind of bitchy. But I was starting to learn how to ignore it.

As I lined up for my next jump I thought I felt focused, but two strides into my approach I pulled up. Something just wasn’t feeling right. 

I could sense my coaches eyes on me as I walked back to my starting point. I figured he was probably getting a knot in his stomach, wondering if I was about to lose it again.

I found my spot and took a deep breath. I focused on the bar, and visualized each step in my approach and my jump. I’d done this hundreds of times. I knew each component of the jump intimately.

Without really thinking about it, I started my approach. I drove hard, planted, pivoted and pushed myself upward. The next thing I knew I was landing on the mat having easily cleared the bar.

“That’s it. Lots of room to spare,” I heard my coach call out. I think maybe he sounded a little relieved.

When I sat up I was grinning. My eyes seemed to find Taylor immediately. She had her camera in front of her face, but she quickly lowered it. She gave me a big grin and a thumbs up, and then raise the camera and took a few more shots of me sitting there. 

I didn’t mind.

I did another half dozen jumps and found everything was working perfectly. I was in the zone, and ready for the track meet.

After one of my jumps I happened to notice Dee had drifted over and was talking to Taylor. Taylor was showing her something on her camera and they both seemed to be laughing.

I couldn’t resist walking over to see what was up.

When Taylor saw me approaching she gave me a big smile and said, “You’re looking great out there today.”

I grinned. “What do you mean? I always look great, don’t I?” It was my turn to tease.

Taylor got a shy little smile on her face and dropped her eyes for a second. I saw her give a quick glance Dee’s way, but she didn’t seem to have a response. 

Dee was looking at me and giving me her knowing smile.

I glanced down at the camera. “So, are you getting lots of good shots?”

I saw Taylor and Dee share a look. Both of them were grinning now. 

“Oh, I’ve got some great shots, but I think this one has to be my favorite,” Taylor proclaimed as she pushed some buttons on her camera and then turned it to me so I could see the image she’d selected.

It was a picture of me just at the point where I was ready to take off for my jump.

“I especially love that intense look on your face,” she added gleefully – maybe a little too gleefully – as she zoomed in on the image. .

It was Dee’s turn to pipe up. “And I especially love the way you like to stick out your tongue. Does that help with your aerodynamics?”

I looked closer at the picture as the two of them giggled. My face was fixed, my eyes focused . . . and sure enough, my tongue was poking out of my mouth.

“That’s a horrible picture,” I told Taylor. “I don’t usually do that.”

Taylor arched a brow and gave me a smug little smile. “Really?” As she spoke, she scrolled back through her pictures and showed me versions of the same picture from half a dozen other jumps, all with my tongue poking out.

Dee was actually laughing, I’m sure at the annoyed look on my face.

“She does the same thing in basketball, when she shoots a jump shot,” Dee added, and her and Taylor started their own little side conversation.

That was something Dee had given me grief about before. As evidence, there was a picture her mother had taken once of me shooting, with my tongue out.

My response had been, “Hey, if it’s good enough for Michael Jordan, then it’s good enough for me.” I’d seen pictures of him doing the same thing when he shot. I’d told Dee I was copying his form.

Apparently Dee was sharing the whole story with Taylor, because I heard her saying, “Who knew Michael Jordan was a high jumper?”

It seemed Dee and Taylor were getting along a little too wonderfully, so I said to Dee, “Don’t you have something you need to be practicing?”

She just grinned. “I’m all ready for Saturday. It’s only you that still needs to work on things.”

I decided I’d had enough being double teamed, so I turned to head back. As I did, I muttered, loud enough to be heard by the two of them, “Some of us take practices seriously. It’s amazing anyone could get a scholarship with a lousy attitude like that.”

I glanced back at Dee and showed her a grin. She scowled my way and then stuck her tongue out at me. I thought that was particularly funny, coming from the usually serious Dee.

I did a couple more jumps – both of which felt great – and then worked on my long jump for a bit. Taylor followed and took a bunch more shots of me. I asked her if she could video a couple of my jumps. The coach did that occasionally, and I liked to watch them to check for any flaws in my technique. I really should have had her do that for my high jump.

For the last ten minutes of practice the four of us on the relay team worked on our baton hand offs. I saw Taylor take a few pictures of us, but then she seemed to drift off, I guess back into the school.

As Dee and I headed up to the parking lot, we seemed to be in a much better mood than we had the day before. We chatted and laughed the whole way.

With a little grin she said, “It must be nice to have your own personal photographer. How does it feel to be a big star?”

She was kind of teasing, but she was keeping it pretty lighthearted.

I was ready for her, though. “I thought I saw . . . you had your own personal photographer too, didn’t you?”

Whatever grin Dee had quickly vanished.

“Didn’t I see Kyle Morrison following you around and taking lots of pictures of you?”

Kyle was kind of a nerd, but not the friendly, goofy kind. More the creepy kind. And I think maybe he had a thing for Dee (yuck).

Dee was definitely frowning now.

I was enjoying myself, though. Payback could be fun. So I continued.

“He must have taken a hundred pictures of you. Hmm . . . I wonder what he’s going to be doing with those pictures tonight?”

I heard a groan come out of Dee and she punched me in the shoulder . . . hard.

“That’s just gross,” she shouted. 

She didn’t sound pleased. Maybe I’d gone a bit too far.

“Sorry,” I said, but the great big smirk on my face maybe made her think I wasn’t totally sincere.

“Really gross,” she repeated and hit me again. After a second she muttered, “But probably true.”

She did a little shiver thing, like the idea of it revolted her that much. Okay, that was understandable.

I couldn’t help grinning, though. Usually calm and stoic Dee could still be plenty dramatic about things sometimes.

She kept glancing over at me and scowling, but I could see she was trying her best not to grin too. 

“So, is Taylor meeting up with you here?” Dee asked as we approached the parking lot.

It seemed like an innocent question, but maybe I was suddenly feeling a little defensive.

“We’re not . . . a thing or anything, you know,” I found myself saying.

Dee stopped and turned to me. She stared at me for a long second, and then finally said, “Okay.”

After a moment of silence I found myself asking, “Do you think . . . do people think that Taylor and me . . . ?” My voice kind of trailed off mid-question.

Dee kept her face neutral. She just shrugged. “If you say you’re just friends, that’s good enough for me.”

“But what do you think?” The question seemed to come out without me really thinking about it.

Dee eyed me. She seemed to be considering whether she should say something or not. Finally she said, “I think Taylor’s a lot of fun. She seems like a nice person . . . and honestly, I think she kind of likes you.”

I found myself deep in thought. This really was something I had to figure out.

Dee echoed my thoughts when she said, “I guess you’re going to have to decide what you want.”

I just nodded at her.

After a second we started walking again. Now we were silent, though.

When we got to Dee’s car she tossed her bag in. She turned back to me and gave me a reassuring smile.

“Remember what I said yesterday . . . if you need to talk . . . about anything . . . let me know. Any time.”

I nodded and gave her an appreciative smile.

We just stood there looking at each other for another second, and then Dee shocked me by giving me a big hug. That was twice in two day, which was unheard of for the two of us.

“Whatever you decide, you know I’ll be there for you, right?” she whispered to me, and then let me go and stepped back.

We both seemed almost a little awkward. Like I’d said, hugging and stuff really wasn’t our thing.

I gave her a little smile and said, “Thanks.” I knew she really was a good friend. And I knew she was actually someone I could talk to about anything. I was thinking I might really need someone like that.

After a few more seconds, Dee finally gave me a little nod and turned towards her car. “Okay, then . . . I’ll see you tomorrow.”

I gave her a smile and watched as she climbed into her car. She pulled out and we each gave a little wave before she drove away.

As I watched her car disappear, I found myself thinking how lucky I was to have a friend like her.

I turned and wandered over to my car. I was a little surprised to see Taylor wasn’t there yet. I threw my bag in and then glanced over towards the school, wondering what was keeping her.

I stood there, waiting patiently . . . for maybe a minute . . . before I decided I’d go find her and hurry her up. Yeah, patience really wasn’t my thing. Besides, I was sure she was just chatting with someone – miss social butterfly that she was – and I needed to get home and get supper started.

The school was deserted and quiet, but I thought I could hear voices down one of the side hallways. I headed that way and before I turned the corner I heard someone saying, “Hey, relax, we just want to talk. You know I’ve never really talked with a dyke before. Maybe we can talk about something you’re interested in . . . like maybe babes. Hey, tell me, who do you think is hot?”

I sped up. When I turned the corner I saw Austin Myers – yeah, the one who had the hots for me – and Justin Walker – a real loser as far as I was concerned – and they had Taylor sort of boxed-in in one of the doorways.

Taylor seemed to be trying to keep her cool, but I could immediately see she was a little freaked out. “Just get out of my way,” she said, trying to sound calm, but Austin and Justin just laughed.

“Oh, come on,” Justin was saying. “We’re not hurting you. What . . . are you not real comfortable around guys? Maybe you just haven’t met the right guy. I bet I could make you reconsider.”

I don’t think any of them saw me coming, so when I roared, “What the fuck is going on?” they all seemed to jump.

When Austin and Justin turned towards me, Taylor pushed her way past them and hurried over. She stepped behind me, so I was between her and them. I got a sense just how freaked out she was.

That just made me seethe. I admit that at times I have a bit of a temper issue . . . but this seemed like a time when it was perfectly appropriate (hey, I was certain that whenever I lost it, it was totally appropriate).

“What the fuck’s wrong with you two loser?” I fumed through clenched teeth. I was glaring at them, my hands were clenched into fists and my whole body was vibrating I was so angry. 

“Hey, we were . . . we were just joking around,” Austin said rather lamely. Even he didn’t look like he believed his words.

He at least sound a little guilty about what had been going on.

Justin, on the other hand, couldn’t help being his usual jerk self.

“Hey, you don’t have to get all excited about us talking to your girlfriend. You’re both just over-reacting. We weren't doing anything.”

I turned my full glare on him and like the loser he was, he seemed to shrink back.

“Yeah, she’s my friend,” I said coolly. “And I saw what you assholes were doing.”

I gave Justin an evil little grin. “I think Coach Ramsey’s still here. Why don’t we go see him and we’ll let him decide if anyone’s over-reacting.”

Coach Ramsey coached the football team – and Justin played on the team – but he’d also coached me for two years in junior varsity basketball. I was pretty sure Coach Ramsey liked me way better than a loser wannabe like Justin.

“Hey . . . we don’t need to do that,” Austin said. He was starting to sound nervous. “Hey Taylor . . . like, we’re sorry. We didn’t mean to freak you out. Really . . . we were . . .you know, just joking around.”

Taylor was still standing behind me and I could sense she was still upset.

I’ve got to say, Austin’s words didn’t do one little thing to cool my anger. I took a sudden step towards the two of them and both of them kind of shrunk back. At some level that amused me.

I stuck a finger in Austin’s face. “Fuck you,” I growled. I turned quickly to Justin and said, “And fuck you too you fucking loser.”

I turned back to Austin. “I knew what a useless prick this guy was . . . ,” – I nodded towards Justin – “. . . but I always thought you were at least a decent guy.” I shook my head and scowled at him. “Shows what the fuck I know.”

He was staring at the floor now. At least he had the decency to look embarrassed.

Justin just looked scared. “You . . . you’re not going to report this, are you?” It came out as a pathetic squeak, that in other circumstances I would have found hilarious.

All of us knew that there’d likely be suspensions if we reported it.

I glared at him. “It’s not up to me,” I said, and turned to Taylor. She was trying to look strong, but I could see she was frazzled.

I turned my glare back to Justin. “It’s her decision . . . but if she wants my opinion, I’d be down at the office when it opens in the morning. And you two assholes would be on suspension about ten seconds later.”

They both looked at each other, and Austin started apologizing again, but I just turned, took Taylor by the arm, and guided her out of there without looking back.

I led her all the way out to the car before I stopped and took a look at her.

“Are you okay?” I asked as gently as I could.

She seemed pretty shaken up and her eyes looked watery, like she might start crying.

She took a deep breath, and then almost angrily wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. 

“I’m fine,” she said, but her shaky voice told me different.

She glance up at me and gave me a heartfelt, “Thank you.”

I saw one big tear leak out of the corner of her eye and run down her cheek.

God, I felt so sorry for her. I wasn’t exactly sure what to do. Without really thinking about it I wrapped my arms around her and hugged her tight against me.

She started really sobbing. I could feel her body tremble against mine. It seemed she’d been even more upset than I’d thought.

Of course I had no idea how long they’d harassed her and what they’d said . . . or done.

Which made me think . . . . “They didn’t . . . touch you or anything, did they?” I didn’t think it was likely, but my stomach was in a knot just considering the possibility.

I felt Taylor’s head, which was pressed against my shoulder, shake. “No . . . no they didn’t do anything like that,” she managed to tell me between sobs.

I felt so relieved. Honestly, I wouldn’t have known how to deal with something like that. I would have wanted to kill those assholes. What am I saying? I already wanted to kill them.

After a couple of minutes her crying subsided. I held her for another minute while she sniffled and tried to compose herself. Really what was becoming of me lately, with all the hugging?

Finally I broke the silence. “I think you should go to the office tomorrow as soon as it opens. I’ll go with you. You can write out a complaint and . . . .”

“No,” Taylor cut me off.

“Taylor, come on . . . ,” I started up, but she cut me off again.

“No,” she said, firmly, and she leaned back so she could look up at me.

“But . . . ,” I began. I stopped when I saw her shaking her head.

She had her eyes on mine, and I could see the certainty in them.

“No, Jess,” she said, softly. “I’m not going to do that.” She let out a little sigh. “What good would that do?”

“What good would it do?” I was fuming again. “Well to start with, those two assholes would be suspended. They’ve got to know they can’t get away with that shit.”

Taylor was shaking her head again. “No. It won’t make things better. Really. Believe me. In fact, it would probably only make things worse.”

I was definitely having a hard time with this.

I guess Taylor could see that. She reached up and brushed her hand over my cheek. She gave me a little smile. “You’re a good friend, Jess. Thanks for caring so much. But we have to do this my way.”

“I could go file a complaint . . . ,” I started again.

“NO.” This time I saw a little blaze in Taylor’s eyes. “No, you’re not going to, Jess. You’re going to just leave it alone. You said it . . . it’s my decision. And I’ve told you what I’ve decided.”

We almost glared at each other for a few seconds, until Taylor’s features finally softened.

“Fucking assholes, anyway. Forget about them.” 

I think her words shocked me as much as anything. I’d never – ever – heard Taylor swear. Hey, I know I swear all the time, but her saying those words really threw me.

I couldn’t help grinning at her.

“Yeah, fucking assholes,” I repeated and we both were grinning.

Taylor stepped back away from me and I saw her glance around, almost nervously.

It took me a second . . . and then I realized she was scared someone had seen us hugging. I didn’t understand why she would care. I really didn’t care.

Taylor turned back to me and gave me a big smile.

Her eyes were twinkling when she said, “My hero. Thanks again . . . for saving me.”

I felt a little embarrassed, but that just made her laugh. It was nice to hear her laugh.

“Let’s get going,” she said, and we climbed into the car and headed for home.


	12. Chapter 12

I had lots to think about in bed that night. I was still convinced those two assholes should pay for what they did, but I knew I wasn’t going to go against Taylor’s wishes. “Maybe if someone slashed Justin’s tires,” I thought. “Or how about a nice big gouge in his paint.” That put a little smile on my face . . . the thought of revenge . . . but I wasn’t really serious.

As much as that incident occupied my mind, I found as I lay there that my mind kept drifting of in another, happier direction. 

As we drove home after school, I’d asked Taylor if she wanted to hang out that evening. I thought after what she’d gone through, maybe she could use a friend – but she’d told me she had to work. I’d forgotten she had a part time job.

“But I’m free tomorrow night . . . if you don’t have any plans,” she’d replied. I’d call the look on her face, hopeful.

Friday night and unfortunately, I didn’t have any plans. A little sad, maybe. I might have gone and hung out with some friends, but who knows. Anyway, it made me feel happy to tell Taylor I was free. 

She grinned at me and in a cheery voice said, “So it’s a date.”

I felt my face redden a bit. “It’s not a ‘date’ . . . we’re just hanging out,” I told her. I tried to sound exasperated, but I think she could sense I was more amused.

Her grin grew even bigger. “Semantics,” she giggled. “You can call it whatever you want . . . but it’s a date.”

I gave her a little scowl, but she just laughed.

After a second she added, “And as I recall . . . I promised you ice cream.”

Now my scowl was gone. “Ice cream . . . now you’re talking.” 

“After you rescuing me like that . . . maybe I owe you even more. I think maybe you deserve a double scoop!”

That whole thing about ‘rescuing her’ left me feeling a little embarrassed . . . but I liked what she had to say after that. A double scoop. That sounded truly wonderful. “Okay . . . ,” I said with enthusiasm, “you have a date then.”

I grinned as I glanced over at her. She just laughed at me.

When we got home, I had her confirm she was catching a ride in the morning. 

“I wouldn’t miss it,” she said with a gleeful little smile. 

As I gathered my stuff out of the car, Taylor slung her pack over her shoulder and came over to me. She gave me a most amazing smile, said, “Thank you,” one more time, and then surprised me with a big hug.

She didn’t have to say what the ‘thanks’ was for. And the hug from her felt anything but awkward. Actually, it felt . . . nice.

It wasn’t a quick little hug. It seemed to last several seconds . . . and when Taylor released me and stepped back, it seemed like she was almost reluctant.

She didn’t say a word. She gave me a shy little smile . . . and a cutesy little finger wave . . . and then slowly turned and headed for her house. 

She paused about half way there and shot me a big smile over her shoulder. When she got to her front door she turned back again. I got another brilliant smile and a last little wave before she disappeared into her house.

I was still glued to the spot beside my car. I hadn't moved as I’d watched her.

“Well, that certainly got a reaction,” came that annoying little voice. “You’re going to have to take a moment to calm yourself back down.”

Luckily, I was getting much better at ignoring those comments. Besides, I found I was feeling incredibly happy. Hey, why not? I was a hero, right? I had plenty to feel good about.

“So it’s not just because Taylor’s hot for you and you’re liking it?” the voice persisted.

Yep, totally ignored . . . like it wasn’t even there. It might as well have been my parents telling me I had to clean my room.

I found a big, goofy smile had appeared on my face. I turned and headed towards the house.

That’s when I saw Gran sitting on the porch. She was looking right at me and she had a big smile of her own. I felt a little uncertain. I could only assume she’d seen Taylor and me . . . and I was sure she’d have her own interpretation of what it all meant. I suddenly wasn’t looking forward to whatever comments she might have.

I tried not to look at her. I rushed directly for the front door . . . but then paused. I felt kind of guilty. I sighed and turned. I walked over to Gran and gave her a hug and a kiss on the cheek. 

“Hey, Gran, how are you doing today?” I asked.

She gave me that big smile. “Good,” was all she said, though. 

She beamed at me for a couple of seconds, and then turned back to her iPad and her games. 

“You’re running late . . . you’d better get going with supper,” she commented almost absently. “What’s it tonight anyway?”

“Mexican,” I told her.

“Mmm, great, I love Mexican,” she responded without even looking up. 

When she didn’t say anything else I turned and walked slowly over to the door. I found myself smiling. At that moment, I hoped Gran knew how much I truly appreciated her.


	13. Chapter 13

Both my parents commented on what a good mood I seemed to be in that evening. Gran didn’t say a word. She just gave me a little smile and told me how good the tacos were.

It was true, though. I was feeling quite upbeat. I couldn’t seem to get the smile off my face. 

I didn’t really spend too much time pondering the reason for the way I felt. I guess I understood it . . . sort of . . . I just decided to leave it unsaid.

“I bet I can guess what’s put you in such a good mood,” that little voice sang in a teasing tone, but I wasn’t even letting it bother me.

I was a little surprised I wasn’t feeling more confused or uncertain . . . but it seemed if I didn’t try to over-think it or analyze it to death – and just went with what felt like a perfectly natural reaction – I was fine. Actually, I was better than just fine.

Of course thoughts of Taylor kept popping up in my mind. A couple of times I considered driving down to the mall – Taylor worked at a bookstore there. The thought of dropping in and seeing her made me smile. And did it make me feel kind of warm and happy inside? Maybe.

I knew that when I thought about Taylor, I really did feel something. I didn’t understand it. Maybe I just really liked her, as a person. Maybe after that incident today I felt protective of her. Maybe it was some kind of girl crush or something (I’d heard about those). 

I guess I didn’t understand it, but I wasn’t going to try to deny it . . . or deny how happy it made me feel.

Like I said, I wasn’t planning on pondering it too deeply – at least not for now. I was just content to live in the moment and enjoy the happiness it brought me.

So I laid there in bed for a long time, just thinking about Taylor . . . goofy little things she’d said, the way she smiled at me, and of course the hug. And I felt quite happy and contented. 


End file.
